


Intended Distance

by yikesola



Series: Renee's Very Own Bingo Card [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2020, COVID-19, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, discussions of lockdown, two-flat theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: The beginning of lockdown, it was easy to be a little optimistic. To think maybe governments would facilitate that everyone could safely quarantine, that people would take this thing seriously, that a short inconvenience would save lives and soon things would go back to normal. That optimism didn’t last too long. Unlike the lockdown which seemed to go on and on.A fic about space and proximity.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: Renee's Very Own Bingo Card [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976617
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	Intended Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of [cal](http://calvinahobbes.tumblr.com) and [keelin](http://ahappydnp.tumblr.com) graciously providing me with my very own bingo card! <3  
> 💜Bingo Squares: Two Flats During Lockdown, Over 3k, P-COU

The beginning of lockdown, it was easy to be a little optimistic. To think maybe governments would facilitate that everyone could safely quarantine, that people would take this thing seriously, that a short inconvenience would save lives and soon things would go back to normal. 

That optimism didn’t last too long. Unlike the lockdown which seemed to go on and on. 

Dan knows it’s driving Phil crazy. He knows Phil wants to go see his parents, he knows Phil misses his brother and the cinema and that as much as they’re both introverts, Dan’s mild agoraphobia has made staying home have a different flavour. 

But there’s a lot that’s driving them both crazy as September simultaneously zooms and crawls along. And they have the resources to manage it, they have the coping mechanisms and the self-care tips and the therapy. They even have the unnaturally good luck to enjoy spending codependent amounts of time together. Still— everyone needs to exist alone every once in a while. 

They’re good at noticing when they’re getting on each others’ nerves. Dan knows the line of Phil’s shoulders and Phil knows the clench of Dan’s jaw. They’ll step into the kitchen or the bedroom or onto the balcony while the other stews in the lounge for a while. And then later they’ll come together again and decide what’s for dinner or turn on a video game or have a cheeky makeout sesh on the sofa. 

The thing is this new reality is just _so long_. London is already dipping back into the cold months again. How the hell did that happen? 

By now they would’ve gone to the Isle of Man a few times, sometimes together, sometimes Phil alone. By this time Dan would’ve been dragged back to Wokingham for a weekend or two. By this time they would’ve gone to Vidcon Mexico and had a holiday somewhere while they’re already in that hemisphere and it wouldn’t be the same walls they were seeing every fucking day. 

Dan gets the idea when he heads over to the filming flat to look for an SD card he can’t find anywhere and maybe, just maybe, has been left in the gaming channel room. 

It was— among the pile of wires both he and Phil had been too lazy to untangle. And he’s still too lazy; he grabs the SD card but the pile remains. A lot remains, actually. They did a shit job of cleaning up, partly because they weren’t sure when they’d be back and partly because… well... it’s _them_. 

At least there’s no old yoghurt forgotten in the corner of the room this time. 

-

Phil is sitting among a pile of jumpers and thinking about which ones need to go to the charity shops. He’s pulled them off the hangers and out of the drawers and they’re taking up most of the space on his and Dan’s bed. He hears the door of their flat open and close and knows it means Dan is back. A little while later, Dan appears in the doorway, and in the interim Phil has made very little progress. 

He hears Dan clear his throat, but just hums out an acknowledgement. He’s holding his itchy chain mail jumper and trying to remember if the pain of wearing it is worth how much he likes it. 

“Was thinking,” Dan says. 

“Your first mistake,” Phil looks up and smiles, tossing the sweater in the _maybe_ pile. 

Dan smiles and shrugs and keeps talking. “Flat feeling a little cramped to you?” 

“You getting stir crazy on me, Howell?” Phil laughs. But he knows what Dan means. The walls of the flat have been inching closer and closer since lockdown began. And he _loves_ being around Dan, always has. But he also loves the hour or so when Dan heads out of the flat to go on a run. 

“No,” Dan shakes his head. “Maybe,” he rolls his eyes. “A little.” 

“Gonna jaunt over to LA where your secret true love is quarantined?” Phil asks, picking up his navy cable knit jumper with the rainbow cuffs. 

“Keep that one,” Dan points. 

“Was going to,” Phil laughs and tosses it into the _keep_ pile. 

Dan walks over and sits cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “Don’t think I’ll need to go that far. Maybe just the other flat? For the night?” 

“Yeah?” Phil asks. 

“Could be nice.” 

Phil feels his smile turn into a smirk. “Think you can handle a whole night alone without some cuddles? You usually only last if we’re apart because there’s a whole train ride in the way,” he teases, conveniently ignoring their two tours or times when a relative would visit or even just the random nights that would happen when they had separate bedrooms and, for whatever myriad of reasons, utilized them. 

“That a challenge, bub?” Dan laughs, “Because _you’re_ usually the one that goes all koala as soon as you’re sleepy.” 

“Get your toothbrush and get out of my flat,” Phil says, shaking his head. 

Dan does the first part, standing and walking over to the bathroom where Phil hears him clanging about. Phil picks up one of his grandfather-syle sweaters and frowns at the moth-eaten hole. “Should I be a gentleman and offer to be the one going to the filming flat?” he asks in a voice loud enough to carry. 

“With your old man back?” Dan laughs, poking his head back into the bedroom. “No way I’m making you sleep on that futon.” 

-

Dan doesn’t actually leave until after dinner. No use leaving Phil to eat bolognese alone or try making something using the unstocked filming kitchen that has only seen a few baking videos. 

When he has slung his old merch backpack that has his toothbrush and laptop and chargers over his shoulder, he walks past the lounge to see Phil taking his socks off and placing them on the coffee table. “At least wait til I _leave_ , jeeze Phil,” he rolls his eyes. 

“This is me-time, Danny,” Phil says, waving him away. 

Dan laughs and grabs the waving hand to give a quick kiss to Phil’s palm before leaving. He’s off to his own me-time, and he’s determined to enjoy it. And he does, for a while. He unfolds the futon and starfishes out as best as he can on the cushion which passes for a mattress. He kicks his sweatpants off and pulls the hood of his hoodie over his frizzy and too long curls. 

He pulls out his laptop and debates whether it’s worth getting onto _Guild Wars_ if he’s not going to be able to use a real keyboard. They’d taken his mechanical keyboard out of the gaming room months ago. 

He decides against it and just goes to Spotify. Phil doesn’t stop him from listening to the music he likes exactly, he just teases Dan for liking the same _weird music as Martyn_. Then Dan teases him about only knowing Muse, Britney Spears, and the _Interstellar_ soundtrack. So being alone for a while means he misses out on that familiar teasing, but it also means he can listen to the totally not weird, just not exactly normie music he likes to his heart’s content. 

He goes on a Wikipedia deep dive about Freud’s lesbian daughter and tries to find a yeast-less bread recipe. Yeast-less and one that doesn’t require a crockpot. That’s apparently hard to come by. 

There’s a nagging thought in the back of his mind that he should do a little actual work. He should check some emails, he should pull up his manuscript. He should be productive on this night with no distractions. Or rather, fewer distractions than usual. 

Not that Phil _existing_ is a distraction. 

Well… not like he used to be. 

Dan hasn’t exactly grown immune over the years. He’s just better at focusing despite that laugh and smile and ass nearby. 

He couldn’t always. Even before he knew Phil, he would just pour over videos over and over and over. Old weird Phil videos that had no right being so hot when they were so weird. He opens YouTube and pulls up “Snokoplasm” because why the fuck not? He actually ends up watching it twice. Then he looks in the recommended videos and clicks on “Sideways Gary” then on “No Sleep” then on “Toxic” and he picks up his phone without really thinking. 

He texts Phil, _what you up to?_ and cringes internally at the fuckboi nature of the phrase. 

_Cracked in less than three hours, huh?👀_ Phil sends back. 

_shut up_

Phil apparently listens to Dan. There isn’t another text for several minutes. 

Dan takes a screenshot of Phil stood shirtless in his shower lip-syncing to “Toxic” with too many filters and absolute shit video quality, and sends it to Phil with the text message, _ho_

Phil still doesn’t text back. He calls instead. “When does our codependence stop being a joke and starts being a problem?” Phil asks when Dan answers the phone. 

“Think we jumped that shark a long time ago,” Dan smiles. 

He’s pretty sure Phil knows he’s smiling. Just like he’s pretty sure Phil is trying not to smile. He can hear it in his voice when Phil says, “We never were great at distance, were we?” 

“I think we’re as good as anyone.” 

“Anyone with codependency issues.” 

“Look, I can hang up if you like,” Dan teases. 

“Don’t,” Phil says. “Norman misses you.” 

“Oh yeah?” Dan is rolling his eyes. But he’s also feeling a saccharine warmth in his chest at Phil indirectly saying he is missed. 

“Yeah. Here…” his voice goes echoey. “You’re on speaker now. Norman— say hi to Dad!” 

“You’re actually losing it,” Dan laughs. 

“Norman blew you a bubble,” Phil says instead of a response to the accusation. 

“Well, tell him I’ll be home soon. I haven’t lied about going out for cigarettes only to never return.” 

“He wants to know how soon.” 

“The morning, idiot,” Dan says. 

“But what am I supposed to do with this hard cock until then?” Phil asks matter-of-factly. 

Dan barks out a laugh. Phil switching subjects so abruptly, going from talking about their fish son to his insistent genitalia, being so casual about an actually graphic statement. It’s too much, he keeps laughing. He loves this idiot so fucking much. 

Phil is laughing too. They’re almost always on the same page. 

“I hate you,” Dan says, wiping his eyes. 

“If you don’t wanna have phone sex, I can just go steal one of your bath bombs,” Phil threatens with plenty of laughter still in his tone. “I was having a perfectly quiet night, you’re the one who had to go and thirst over my twenty-one year old bare shoulders.” 

“Me sending you a screenshot of yourself is _not_ what got you randy.” 

“No,” Phil says. “But the fact that you just couldn’t help yourself did.” 

There’s less laughter in his tone now. Phil means it— he likes that Dan is sentimental and sometimes doesn’t bother with self-control. Dan knows it. He’s been told. And Phil seems to particularly like that it manifested tonight in Dan watching old videos. 

“And also maybe I’ve been going through my photos,” Phil adds. 

“Yeah?” Dan smiles, sitting up to pull his hoodie off. He also puts his phone on speaker and sets it beside his head. 

“You’re pretty.” 

“Am I?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Phil sighs then. A sigh just shy of a moan. Dan imagines what he must be touching to get that soft little sound and moves his own hand down. He shuffles out of his pants. He and Phil trade breathy sounds and mild descriptions and the sort of yearning praises they have when in this position before. 

After a few minutes where Dan has a solid rythm going and is starting to feel the ascent of something, Phil says, “Wanna taste you.”

“Wish you could,” Dan sighs out, an old phone sex standard.

“I _can_ ,” Phil whines. “You aren’t actually away!” 

“What?” Dan’s brain is whirling too fast with visceral reactions for actual thoughts to leak through. 

“C’mere,” Phil says, low and wanting and so delicious it actually makes Dan’s toes curl. 

Dan huffs out a laugh, half disbelief half frustration. “Kinda busy,” he says, squeezing his hand a little tighter. 

Then Dan hears three disconnection beeps. Then the line is quiet. 

Dan opens his eyes and tries to take stock of what happened. He calls Phil back. The call is sent straight to voicemail. “Fuck, Phil,” Dan spits to the empty room’s ceiling. He has half a mind to keep tugging at his cock and then immediately fall asleep, just to spite him. But spite isn’t a good enough reason not to do what Phil wants, not when it’s so tempting and he’s so close in every way. 

He stands and grabs the bundled up hoodie and sweats. He’s really gambling on his poor record for social awkwardness by just rocking the clear and visible boner as he makes his way back to his actual flat, but Dan is so far beyond giving a fuck at this point. 

And he gets lucky; he doesn’t see anyone. 

The door is locked and his key is still probably on the floor of the gaming room, so he knocks a little too heatedly. 

Phil answers in nothing but a pair of straining pants and a purely evil grin. Dan reaches behind Phil’s head and pulls him into a kiss. “You stupid wanker,” Dan groans as they step still kissing towards the bedroom. 

“Hey, the whole point was I didn’t want to wank,” Phil says between lip smacks and laughs. He stops in the hall just before their bedroom door and presses Dan’s shoulders against the wall. “Wanted to fuck,” he moves to nip at Dan’s neck. “Wanted to taste you.” 

-

Phil is not unaware of his own faults. He knows he’s greedy, knows he’s impatient. He knows he is messy. But he also knows Dan likes it. He knows by the look Dan gives him when he falls back onto the bed, bare and eager and ready for Phil to get what he wants. He knows by Dan’s hand threading through his messy quiff when he kneels between Dan’s knees at the edge of the bed and places his head on Dan’s warm thighs. He knows by the hiss of, “Yes,” Dan gives when he drags his tongue up the length of Dan’s cock. 

He doesn’t bother with slow, he doesn’t bother with skill, he takes and Dan gives and it’s so fucking good to feel the weight of him on his tongue as the taste of precome fills his mouth. 

This is what he wanted. This is what he was greedy for. Dan coming undone from his actions in this specific form of proximity. Distance is well and fine, time apart is healthy. _This_ is carnal and sloppy and over quickly. Dan comes and Phil keeps sucking until Dan is shaking and pushing Phil’s forehead away. 

“God,” Dan groans. Phil crawls onto the bed and over Dan’s sweat tacky body. He kisses him insistently and the back of Phil’s mind is exploding with the reminder that Dan isn’t crazy about the taste of come, especially not his own, but the kiss is no less wanting. 

Dan, with the clearer head between the two of them at this point, is moving his arm towards the bedside table. Phil notices and sits up to grab their lube. 

He slicks his length and Dan’s thighs and Dan lets him be greedy again. Let’s Phil fuck into his thighs and breathe heavily against his neck. Phil hears him saying raspy sort of things. He can’t make out the words but it doesn’t matter. Having Dan’s voice right in his ear, having Dan’s warmth all around him, it’s more than enough. He comes onto the sheets under Dan's legs and falls into Dan’s body while they both catch their breath.

“If you kick me out to the other flat, I _will_ feel like a booty call,” Dan says into Phil’s chin. 

Phil laughs. He turns his face and kisses Dan. “Fair,” he says, “stay.” 

Dan pokes at Phil’s ribs. “I mean I couldn't leave even if I wanted to with you loafing like this.” Phil rolls over onto his side, but despite his teasing Dan doesn’t actually move. 

“Love you,” Phil says. “Glad you weren't actually far away.” 

Dan leans onto his elbow, kisses Phil and says, “You’re a horny sap.” He kisses him again. “Love you.” 

He stands and makes his way into the bathroom. Phil stands and joins him as they get the lube and come and sweat cleaned off. Dan points at the counter. “My fucking toothbrush is in the filming flat.” 

They laugh and Dan grabs one of the cheap spare toothbrushes they have in the upstairs bathroom, but Phil tells him not to bother brushing just yet. He’s remembered the package of vegan cookie dough they’ve got in the fridge. It isn’t as good as real cookie dough, but whenever he wants to whine about it he remembers Dan reminding him that this won’t give him salmonella. 

So they end up sitting on the kitchen counter in pyjama pants, ignoring the clock and the fact it’s too late for this sugary of a snack the way they have all lockdown. Time isn’t real during a global health crisis. Little joys are more vital than ever. 

Like sitting together, still floaty from their orgasms, and joking in that way they always have. The bants as easy as breathing. 

Maybe they’ll try a night in separate flats some other time, Phil thinks. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be alone for a bit. But he’s still feeling greedy and he likes that Dan is nearby enough to grab and kiss if he wants to. His family is far away, his friends he’s only seen through their frequent Zoom calls. In this middle of the night moment, not having any distance from Dan is fine by him. 

They eventually do brush their teeth and turn out the lights and crawl into bed with cracking joints. Phil is falling asleep when he hears Dan’s quiet voice speaking where his face is pressed against Phil’s skin and with his breath tickling Phil’s chest hair. “Are those fucking socks still on the coffee table?” 

“No,” Phil lies. “Course not.” 

“Sure,” Dan snorts.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/632331012520706048/calvinahobbes-and-ahappydnp-harnessed-my-whining) !


End file.
